Lots Of Maple Syrup
by KimoriShadows
Summary: Prussia tries to cook breakfast. Canada fears for his kitchen's wellbeing. Suggestive content, Prussia/Canada, oneshot, nothing explicit.


A/N: Hello all! Hope you enjoy the little bit of PrussiaCanada crack I have for you today! Busily working on a longer fic, so apologies for the shortness! My friend gave me a prompt that was "Maple syrup. Lots of maple syrup.", and I hope I have done said prompt justice. If I owned Hetalia: Axis Powers, it would be non-stop Polska x Liet and Su x Fin. I recently read a PrussiaCanada fic and was inspired. This has crept its way into my favourite pairings list (haven't the foggiest idea how). This fanfiction is not meant to represent the countries mentioned in any way, nor their armed forces. Enjoy~

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"Hey, Canada? We're all out of pancake mix!"

The shout that woke the quiet nation made his stomach sink. Prussia wasn't trying to make breakfast again, was he? Despite the fact that he insisted his kitchen skills were "awesome", Canada dreaded having to clear up after him and then make something edible. Canada was a great cook- though most of his favourite dishes involved maple syrup.

Lots of maple syrup.

As Canada's mind slowly cleared, he remembered that he had only bought new mix the previous afternoon. And Prussia...

Oh dear.

His poor kitchen.

Canada scrambled out of bed, leaving his fluffy white bear sat between the covers, and hurried down to the kitchen. The scene that greeted him was that of Prussia, his light hair even lighter (if possible) thanks to the blobs of pancake mix in it. A gleeful grin was slapped across Prussia's face, in between the splatters of pancake mixture. His clothing had got completely covered, despite the "I Love NY" apron that America had bought Canada for his last birthday, the writing now completely obliterated. In one hand, Prussia held a smoking pancake pan... and empty smoking pancake pan.

Canada looked up. There, stuck to his ceiling, was what he could only assume to be Prussia's unevenly-cooked, burned and sticky attempt at breakfast.

"Y...You tried cooking..." Canada said, trying hard to hide his horror. He knew that Prussia had tried hard, and he didn't want to offend him. Matthew usually got up earlier than Prussia (much earlier), as he loved to watch the sunrise and morning break. It made him feel at peace and at one with the world, and for a moment he could forget that nobody knew his name or even remembered who he was, he could forget that he was mistaken for his brother by his best friend Cuba, he could forget that even France and England were beginning to ignore his existence. But that morning, it seemed their antics from the night before had left Canada more tired than he had anticipated.

"Hey, Matthew?" Prussia grinned, eyes shining with a look that Canada knew spelt trouble. "I could try and make some wurst or something..."

"Uhm, don't worry about it..." Canada mentally shivered at the thought of sausage this early. Though England had tried to convince both him and America that a good old English fry-up was the best way to start a day, he had always preferred pancakes and maple syrup.

Lots of maple syrup.

"Should we go out for breakfast, then?" Prussia paused for a second, then his face lit up with a mischievous grin. He wrapped his arms around Canada's waist, pulling their bodies close and placing his lips so close to his lover's he could feel Canada's soft breaths on his face. He knew that timid Canada would never move his lips to press against those of the ex-nation, no matter how much he wanted to, because of that nagging in the back of the nation's mind that Prussia had come to recognise. It was an insecurity, an uncertainty, a desire never to take a risk in case it pushed away those closest to him. Canada, Prussia knew, hated the thought of being alone. "We could always stay in and cook up something else entirely."

Canada wasn't expecting his lover's sudden moves, nor his words, and his cheeks reddened. "I... uh... eh."

His heart began pounding faster as Gilbert leaned towards his ear, whispering so his hot breath tickled its shell.

"It'll involve maple syrup. Lots of maple syrup."

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